


Poetry in Motion

by ThreeKnivesInAWineGlass



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Angst, Class Divide, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, vaguely
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 14:29:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18625144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeKnivesInAWineGlass/pseuds/ThreeKnivesInAWineGlass
Summary: Soonyoung’s heart races and stops all at once. Minghao looks like a vision, an angel, something unreal that Soonyoung can’t name. He almost feels like he should say something, but as he tries to come up with anything, Minghao ducks his head and walks away.





	Poetry in Motion

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The characters I write about are inferred from public personas but should not be taken as accurate portrayals of their real world counterparts. Some fans have a hard time separating fantasy and reality, so before you read my story, I implore you to recognize these as characters, not celebrities. Please don’t project what you read in stories onto real people. Please respect real people.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy my fic.

Soonyoung loves architecture, but not in a very specific or profound way. He really just likes the tall buildings, to be honest, with how they reach up toward the sky, tower above all else, and are adorned with flying buttresses. It was Soonyoung’s job in the past to restore and maintain such details, the worn out stonework and climbing vines. But, again, that was in the past.

Scaling high walls isn’t something Soonyoung’s done in years at this point, not since the fall, not since he was let go. He misses it almost every day, being so far above the ground, tending to something that seems so larger than life, however he likes his new job well enough to tamp the longing down and find a quiet form of contentment in his day to day. It’s close enough, anyway, he’s just on the inside now. And besides, if he hadn’t busted his leg and lost that old job, he’d have never met Seungkwan, and Soonyoung likes Seungkwan a lot, so it would’ve been a shame if they’d never met.

Seungkwan likes their job too, and that also helps keep Soonyoung positive. He is having to distract himself at the moment though, since Seungkwan does not like car rides, with every mild bump in the road eliciting a sharp gasp from him that makes Soonyoung’s chest seize anxiously.

It’s a blessing when they pull up to the gates of Xu Manor. They’ll be out of the car soon, Seungkwan will be his normal chipper self again, and Soonyoung can focus on mopping floors until he sees his reflection in them. Soonyoung probably likes that part of the job best. It’s always satisfying.

“Name and business, please?” The gatekeeper asks.

“Yoon Jeonghan and company. You should have been expecting us, we’re from Shining Diamond Cleaning Services,” Jeonghan says, and Soonyoung can hear it in his voice that Jeonghan’s put on his best smile. It’s kind of funny how Jeonghan says he hates customer service but always goes the extra mile anyway. Maybe that’s why he’s a manager.

“Alright, go on, then,” the gatekeeper says as the barred doors gently swing open, and Jeonghan tips his hat before driving them through and up the gravel road.

Just going up the driveway, Soonyoung’s glad he isn’t here to landscape - why is the yard so massive? - but as he really takes in the house, he kind of wishes he wasn’t here to clean either. The house might be bigger than the yard, which means this is gonna be a long job, which means it’s gonna be a long day.

Seungkwan’s bouncing his leg next to Soonyoung’s, a nervous tick, but he abruptly stops as he gawks out the car window and asks, “We’re cleaning all of that?”

“Of course not,” Jeonghan says over his shoulder. “There’d be more than three of us if we were doing the whole house. We’re just getting the common spaces on the ground floor, should be in and out in a few hours, same as any other job.”

They stop on the curve near the front door and, getting out of the car, Soonyoung stretches a bit before spinning on his heel to help grab some of the cleaning supplies from the trunk. Then he makes sure to walk with Seungkwan, behind Jeonghan. It’s Jeonghan’s job to do the talking, he’s the manager, and Soonyoung doesn’t want to stand too far forward lest anyone try to engage him.

Truth be told, the splendor is intimidating to Soonyoung, and he always wonders if the people living in these extravagant houses are as imposing as their estates. Wondering is slightly silly though, as, in his experience, they usually are just as imposing, if not more so.

Jeonghan knocks on the door as Seungkwan and Soonyoung reach the landing, and the door is opened soon after by a rather tall man, who says, “You must be the cleaners.” And this man must be the head of the house, Soonyoung thinks, especially with a voice like that, controlled and deep. He looks like the product of fine breeding too, from how he carries himself, good posture that exudes confidence, to the fact that he has one of the better faces Soonyoung’s seen in his life.

“That we are,” Jeonghan says, again with that customer service smile tone. “Would you be so kind as to show us the rooms we’ll be working in so that we can begin?”

“Certainly. Please come in,” the man steps aside to let the three of them in, then closes the door behind them before he starts walking. “The library, gallery, and parlor are this way, with the dining hall and ballroom in the other direction. Once you finish those rooms, the master also wants the hallways and foyer to receive a thorough cleaning.”

Wait, this man isn’t the master of the house?

“I assure you, we will be very thorough,” Jeonghan says as they come to stop in front of a pair of grand wooden doors, which are pushed open to reveal tall shelves filled with books. Even peering in, Soonyoung can’t see an end to them.

“I see. Well,” the man begins, “this is the library. The books need to be dusted, the shelves polished, the windows cleaned, and the floor swept.”

Seungkwan steps forward, wearing his own, more genuine, smile as he says, “Is that all? Consider it done.”

“That’s the short list,” the man says, but he doesn’t stop Seungkwan from marching into the library, broom casually slung over his shoulder. He watches Seungkwan venture further into the labyrinth of shelves for a moment before turning to Jeonghan. His stare alone communicates that he’s questioning their professionalism.

Jeonghan picks up on the judgement too, and he stands just a little straighter, saying, “Trust me, Seungkwan is one of our best. He’ll get everything on your list done and then some. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

The man gives them a brief nod before saying, “I suppose I’ll show you to the parlor, then.”

The parlor is as grand as the library, though more open of a space. The pillows scattered among the seating look soft even from a distance, and the curtains graze the floor in a way that Soonyoung can only describe as elegant. The gallery isn’t much different when they come to it, but the pillows are replaced with oil paintings and there’s a statue instead of a chaise lounge.

It’s a nonverbal discussion between Jeonghan and Soonyoung to decide which of them will take these rooms, and which of them will wind up working with Seungkwan since he will undoubtedly come to help once he’s done in the library. The conversation is over fast, though, as, with his leg, Soonyoung would rather not be around things that look quite as fragile and expensive as the marble bust sitting in the corner, and Jeonghan knows this. Jeonghan understands, and so Jeonghan is the one who says he’ll handle it and stays behind as the man - who must be the steward if he’s not the master - leads Soonyoung down the corridor again towards the dining hall and ballroom.

They stop outside yet another set of elaborate doors and the steward says, “Through here is the ballroom, across from it is the dining hall. You don’t have to worry about anything else.” He pauses for a moment, eyeing Soonyoung before he continues, “I’ve heard good things about your company, so I trust that you’ll do your job and stick to those rooms.”

“Yes, Sir,” Soonyoung says, giving a quick salute. “I’ll have those two rooms spick and span for you today, easy. Give them the good old dust, mop, and shine treatment, no problem.”

“That’s good.” The steward seems mildly taken aback by Soonyoung’s slight rambling, but that’s nice. Seeing a break in his composure makes Soonyoung feel a bit less intimidated by him. “I have other things to do now, so I’ll leave you to get started.” Thank god.

Soonyoung nods repeatedly as the steward slowly turns, and Soonyoung watches him walk away for a minute before he moves for the double doors. He hates feeling like he’s being watched while he works. That was one of the best things about his old job, that no one watched him, ever, not as long as he did it right and well.

The doorknobs are a shiny gold, Soonyoung notices as he reaches for them, and, unsure whether they’re actually gold or not, he decides to be delicate in how he grabs them. He heard gold’s a soft metal once, and he has no idea what that really means, but for him it roughly translates to “do not mess up the fancy people’s doorknobs.”

The slow swinging of the doors is silent, of course, as Soonyoung opens them. Well maintained hinges are a staple of the upper class. The hinges aren’t the only things well maintained, though.

As he gazes at the ballroom from the doorway, Soonyoung wonders why he’s even here. The floor glistens in a gentle, tolerable sort of way, and so much light is pouring in through the grand windows already. Does it really need to be cleaned? What kind of crazy standards does the master of the house have if this doesn’t please them?

It’s best if Soonyoung doesn’t question that. He’s here to do a job, so he should focus and get it done. What’s it matter if this house isn’t as dirty as others he’s cleaned, anyway? He should be glad it isn’t. The fact it isn’t makes his job easier.

Heaving his supplies into the room, Soonyoung sets them by the door and takes it in again, though this time a bit more critically. He should start with dusting the chandeliers, which means he’ll need the ladder from the car, and he can work his way down the windows and anything else on the walls after that. The furnishings should probably get a light shining, at least. Then he can finish off with mopping.

Well, finish in here.

Soonyoung doesn’t waste another minute to get going, quickly walking back out to the car for the ladder, which, luckily, neither Seungkwan or Jeonghan seem to have needed. From there, it’s a meticulous slog, but Soonyoung finds the acoustics of the ballroom to be quite good, with his whistling ringing loud all the way from one side of the room to the other.

He stops whistling for a moment as he moves to polish the grand piano, a book sitting on the lid catching his eye. It’s a pretty book, as far as books go, with swirly ornate details and bright silver lettering. Poetry, huh? Soonyoung never understood it himself, but -

A voice calling “Wonwoo” pulls Soonyoung away from the book. He hears footsteps from the hall before he sees their owner appear in the ballroom doorway, and wow, this one  _ has _ to be the master of the house.

It’s another man, tall and stood up straight, just like the steward, but somehow there’s more to him than that. The only way Soonyoung can begin to explain it is if the steward exuded confidence then this man radiates it, like the sun with light, vivid and powerful. It pulls Soonyoung in, enchants him, makes him feel like a moth, helpless to gaze at the brilliant flame that’s eyeing him from across the room.

“You’re not Wonwoo,” the man says, dragging out the words slightly, and Soonyoung wants to melt. His voice, were it tangible, is like velvet, luxurious and soft.

Soonyoung’s lost in staring at him, forgets that he should do his part to end this awkward encounter and send the divine human before him on his way to find this Wonwoo, so he stupidly says, “No, I’m Soonyoung.”

“Are you?” The man laughs lightly, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. He looks at Soonyoung, seemingly waiting for a response of some sort but Soonyoung’s got nothing, then tilts his head as he smiles properly and steps into the room, asking, “I don’t suppose you’ve seen a stray book lying around, have you?”

It takes a moment for Soonyoung to process that the man is moving towards him, that he can pick out the subtle features of his face as he gets closer, like the mole that sits high on his right cheek. When his brain catches up, however, Soonyoung is quick to spin on his heel, grab the poetry book from the piano, and ask, “You mean this one?”

The man moves to stand in front of Soonyoung, taking the book from his outstretched hand and examining it for a brief moment before he looks up and says, “Yes, this is it. Thank you.” Wow, Soonyoung thinks again, his eyes are … Soonyoung doesn’t know what they are, but they’re definitely more than just beautiful. Much, much more.

“My pleasure,” Soonyoung mumbles.

“Soonyoung, was it?” the man asks, and Soonyoung takes a moment before he nods. The man chuckles, light, airy, breathtaking, and says, “Minghao,” offering Soonyoung his hand.

Soonyoung’s brain stalls with how the man said his name, and then he realizes that he’s been given a name. A really pretty name -  _ Minghao. _ He quickly reaches for Minghao’s hand, and when they connect, Soonyoung internally marvels at how soft his skin is. If Minghao’s voice is velvet, his hands are pure silk.

The contact only lasts an instant, with Minghao pulling back all too soon and Soonyoung’s hand easily falling back to his side. Soonyoung doesn’t know what to do now, so he glances down and spots the polish on his palm, then his eyes flit to Minghao’s to see the same on him. Oh, shit.

“I’m sorry,” Soonyoung says suddenly, making Minghao jump slightly and his eyes widen. “I’m so sorry. I got polish on your hand. Can I just- If I may, I mean-” Soonyoung fumbles, trying to pull out the rag he keeps in his pocket, and by the time he succeeds, Minghao’s hand is hanging in the air between them, waiting.

For some reason, Soonyoung feels like this is something he needs to be careful with, so he brushes his hand on his pants before he moves slowly, deliberately, to take Minghao’s hand in his own. He’s gentle as he flips it over, presses the rag against Minghao’s skin and rubs at the polish. He’s glad it’s just a polish and not a stain, since that wouldn’t come off with just a rag. Technically, the polish won’t either, but he can lessen it, even if it still leaves some residue behind.

Minghao is quiet as Soonyoung drags the ratty cloth over his hand, though his fingers twitch every now and then. Is he getting annoyed? Before he can stop himself, Soonyoung asks, “Is this alright?”

“Yes, it just tickles a bit,” Minghao says, his voice pleasant. It’s distracting with how it rings in Soonyoung’s ears, to the point he doesn’t notice his hand has stopped moving until Minghao draws his attention to it, asking, “Is it off?”

“Um-” Soonyoung says eloquently. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s off. You might want to wash your hands though, just to be safe.” He pauses, releasing Minghao’s hand and gesturing to his other, where the book is being cradled against his side, then adds, “Especially before you try handling that.”

“Right,” Minghao says, a smile curving his lips, and oh god, Soonyoung can see the exact shape of the dip of his cupid’s bow. “Thank you, Soonyoung.”

They stare at each other in silence for a moment, Minghao most likely refraining as he’s waiting for Soonyoung to speak, unaware that Soonyoung can’t find any words to say. Eventually though, Minghao lightly clears his throat, glances around only for his eyes to land on Soonyoung again for a second before he whispers, “I should go now.”

Soonyoung nods, still not sure what to say, if he should say anything at all. Minghao nods back, shallow and quick, then turns and walks away. And maybe Soonyoung’s going crazy, but he feels like Minghao hesitates in his steps a few times.

No. No, thoughts like that are wishful, and Soonyoung doesn’t have time for wishing right now. He can wish once his work is done.

And so Soonyoung works. He works and works, and as he finally polishes the grand piano, he definitely doesn’t muse on strands of long, dark hair, what they’d feel like between his fingers. As he spills suds across the floor, he honestly doesn’t wonder if he might find calluses on soft hands if he had the time to really look, to trail his fingers over each and every inch of warm skin. He doesn’t whistle again, either, but he does glance at the door every so often, his mind tricking him as it replays that gentle “Soonyoung, Soonyoung, Soonyoung.”

Suffice to say, cleaning the dining hall is a long, tedious hell, and Soonyoung’s glad when he joins Jeonghan and Seungkwan in the hallway. His mind wanders less when he’s in company. Less is only less, though, and Soonyoung still takes a moment to gaze up the large staircase that rests centered with the front door. He pities the person whose job it is to dust the rug on those steps.

The foyer is sparkling in what feels like no time, even with Soonyoung’s mild dawdling, and Jeonghan wanders off to find the steward to let him know that they’re done, leaving Soonyoung and Seungkwan to load the car. They’re almost done, with Soonyoung being the one to grab the last mop and bucket, but he freezes when he notices Minghao on the landing of the stairs, watching him.

Soonyoung’s heart races and stops all at once. Minghao looks like a vision, an angel, something unreal that Soonyoung can’t name. He almost feels like he should say something, but as he tries to come up with anything, Minghao ducks his head and walks away.

Right. No, right. That wasn’t a moment, and their interaction earlier wasn’t either. Soonyoung knows it wasn’t, because it couldn’t have been. Minghao is clearly out of his league. And yet, he spends his time walking out to the car and stuffing the last of the supplies in the back trying to convince himself that it was nothing.

Jeonghan comes bounding down the front steps soon enough, shouting, “What are you waiting for, an invitation? Get in the car!”

Soonyoung can’t look away from the grand manor as they drive away, peering over his shoulder as they head down the gravel road once again. Then, after they’re clear of the gate and the building is lost from his sight, Soonyoung’s left alone with his thoughts.

Surety settles over him quickly. It doesn’t matter what logic he attempts to employ, Soonyoung's heart keeps thumping steadily, its rhythm a broken record that quietly says “It was.”

**Author's Note:**

> It's a real prince and the pauper situation.  
> -
> 
> Art exists to be witnessed.
> 
> If you’re so inclined after reading my fic, comments are always appreciated, especially if you have thoughts, feelings, or questions about the story. Regardless of whether it’s long or short, comments let me know that my work was engaged with, which, as a writer, is all I hope for those reading my fic to do.


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